


Runaway Love

by thebadwolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Forced, Homelessness, M/M, Neglect, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-20 18:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15540591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadwolf/pseuds/thebadwolf
Summary: AU - Sherlock is 16 and has a fall out with his parents. He runs away and starts living on the street. One of his teachers, Mr. John Watson, sees the boy is in a vulnerable place and takes full advantage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01/08/19 - Spelling and grammar fixes

Sherlock couldn't believe what he was hearing. His parents wanted him out or at least it seemed that way. He could tell they were very angry with him. They’d been in their room fighting for almost an hour. He could hear them all the way in his room.

 

This whole thing was happening because he’d made a stupid mistake. His mother had been putting clothes away in his room earlier in the day when she’d found an old note hidden away in his dresser.

 

Last year he’d experimented with a boy classmate. They snuck off and snogged in a supply closet. It had only happened a couple of times and the two of them had never really dated. It was just harmless experimenting. Robert wrote him a note thanking for him being cool with it. Sherlock had kept the letter folded in his sock drawer. He wasn’t sure why he held onto it but it felt nice to have.

 

“I won’t have it!” his father shouted.

 

The sixteen-year-old felt sick to his stomach as he listened to his parents argue with each other. He didn't believe he was gay but he didn’t really know what he was. Why were his parents so upset? What was the big deal? It sounded like they hated him because of that stupid note.

 

Sherlock jumped up and grabbed a duffel bag from his closet. He was fighting the tears pushing at his eyes. Why did it matter who he kissed? Who were they to judge him?

 

The teenager opened the duffel bag and started throwing his clothes in. Quickly. he shoved as many outfits as he could in. He picked up his violin and carefully placed it in the duffle bag. It would be too hard to carry the duffle bag, his school bag, and his violin case. Last, he reached into his sock drawer and pulled out a wad of money. He’d been saving his pocket money for months. He was planning on buying a nice chemistry kit. It seemed like that plan was out the window.

 

If his parents didn’t want him around he would leave. Even though he had no idea where he would go he knew he had to leave. He would rather sleep on the street than live somewhere he wasn’t wanted. His hands trembled nervously as he opened his bedroom door and looked around. There was no sign of his parents anywhere. It sounded like they were still in their room fighting. There was no way he wanted them to catch him sneaking out.

 

Sherlock walked downstairs and out the front door. He had no idea if his parents would look for him. He didn’t even know where he was going to sleep that night. His school was about a half an hour walk away. He would try to stay within a half an hour walk of it but still as far away from his parents as possible.

 

The sun was setting as he stepped outside. It was the Saturday night, so he wouldn’t have to worry about school until Monday. He’d have to find his place out on the street.

 

Deep down Sherlock hoped he wouldn’t be on the streets long. He planned out what would happen in his head. His parents would discover he was missing and call the police. They would find him and bring him home. Maybe he would make up with his parents. Maybe they would still fight. He had no idea how it would work out.

 

Sherlock walked down the street and through the small town. He got a few glances from people, but no one really paid him much mind. He kept walking when he passed his school. He would need to find a place to settle down and get some sleep.

 

The boy glanced at his watch. It was only a bit past nine. Normally he wouldn’t be so tired so early, but he was beyond tired from his stressful day. His body was demanding rest. He walked down the street looking for a quiet pace.

 

His eyes fell on a quiet clean alleyway between two apartment buildings. He walked in and leaned against the wall. There was a small “thud” as he placed his backpack next to him and put his duffel bag under his head. It was still warm out due to it only being the start of October. Soon the cold weather would come. He had no idea what he would do then. All he could do was hope he still wouldn’t be out there then.

 

The teenager adjusted the duffel bag so that he wasn’t resting his head on the violin nestled inside. He yawned and closed his eyes. It was only a few minutes before sleep overtook him.

 

\--

 

Sherlock gave a yawn as he stretched and opened his eyes. The morning sun was shining in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes with a shirt sleeve trying to shake the sleep from them.

 

He glanced down at his watch and found it was just after seven. He stood and stretched his long limbs out. His back was killing him from sleeping on the ground. The duffel bag hadn’t helped much.

 

The teenager picked up his bags and headed off to find some breakfast. Sherlock was going to have to watch money very carefully and plan out his speeding. He didn’t have that much, and he was going to have to make it last. Earning money would be a difficult task for him.

 

Sherlock was going to need to figure out how to survive on his own rather quickly. He walked along until he found an open dinner.

 

**Lucy’s.**

 

He’d been there a few times with his parents. Thinking about his parents made him sick to his stomach. Were they looking for him? He sat down at one of the tables and pushed his bags under the table. A smiling waitress approached the table.

 

“What I can I start you with?” she asked.

 

“Tea,” he said reaching for the menu.

 

Sherlock decided on an egg and toast. Simple and cheap. He slowly ate his breakfast trying to savor every bit. He was never a big eater, but he had always had access to food. As soon as he finished his breakfast he left enough money on the table to cover his bill and a bit of tip.

 

All he wanted was to get out of there. He felt so strange sitting there with his meager belongings next to his feet. He’d seen homeless people on the street and in restaurants before. He had always felt bad for them and had always dropped a few coins in their collection cups.

 

Now, he was one of them. That thought was just starting to sink in.

 

Sherlock needed to go to the library and work on a report for school. It was just opening at her reached its large doors. He smiled at the librarian, Glenda as he walked in. She was a nice old lady who never complained about him bringing in books late.

 

“Your other bag,” she said as he walked by.

 

“Oh,” Sherlock said looking down at the duffle. “Can I leave it with you?”

 

“Of course,” she said taking the bag from him. “Have a sleepover last night?”

 

“You could say that,” he explained.

 

“Enjoy yourself,” she said nodding towards the books. “You know where I am if you need anything.”

 

Sherlock wasted no time finding a spot and opening his backpack. He wasn’t going to let his situation affect his grades. He was at the top of his class and he wasn’t going to let that change. At least he had a safe quiet place to work. It was no different than being home.

 

_No different than being at home._

 

\--

 

Sherlock felt so strange as he walked into school that morning. He had no idea what to do with his duffel bag. It wasn’t going to fit into his locker. There was no way he had enough money to rent a locker at the coach station. After a bit of thought, he decided to ask the school counselor for help.

 

Rosie was a nice lady who didn’t ask too many questions. She had no problem holding onto his bag.

 

He barely made it to his first class on time. Sherlock settled down at his desk and glanced around at the other students. He looked just as clean and well rested as they did. It was a bit hard to believe he had spent his night in a cold dark alleyway. Where had they slept?  What would people think if they knew he was sleeping on the street?

 

All day long Sherlock waited to be called to the office. Weren’t his parents going to come to school looking for him? Weren’t they worried? They had to be. As the final bell rang Sherlock felt horrible. He hadn’t eaten lunch. It cost money and he just didn’t have enough to eat three times a day. That would be a waste. Of course, he knew that wasn't the reason he felt horrible. 

 

Sherlock collected his bag from Rosie. She asked if he needed to talk about anything but didn’t press the issue. He was grateful for that. He didn’t really want to get into it with her. As he walked out of the school he was surprised to find his parents weren’t there.

 

They weren’t waiting at the school for him. They weren’t there in the morning. They weren’t there in the afternoon. They hadn’t reported that he’d run away. His parents weren't coming for him.  

 

The teenager watched as other children were picked up by their parents. The children pulled away from their parents as they placed kisses on their cheeks. Some of the kids were walking towards the bus stop to catch their ride home. They were going home to their families. They had safe warm places to go. A place Sherlock no longer had.

 

As that thought settled into his head Sherlock felt his world crashing down. He was alone. He was going to have to take of himself. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next week was a living hell for Sherlock. He always made sure to sleep and eat in different places. He didn’t want anyone to notice his situation. If they did they might call the police. They would send him back to live with his parents. Parents that didn’t want him. Parents that hadn't even bothered to find him. 

 

He spent an hour after school playing his violin in front of different business around town. He always made sure to ask the owner before he started playing. It only brought in a few dollars but it was something. It made sure he didn’t have an empty stomach that day.

 

He felt so alone as he sat in the library all alone.  Every day he saw children walk past with their parents. They looked so happy as they showed them the books they have picked out. He saw loving parents carrying their children among the silent halls. 

 

Sherlock had been close to his parents once. He remembered all the happy birthdays and Christmases. He remembered his mother spending lots of time with him, singing to him, and tucking him in. 

 

Now, he was sixteen and all alone. He was sleeping on the street and he didn’t even have a blanket. He needed to hit up a second-hand shop and buy one. He was trying to save money to some much-needed things but it was very difficult.  

 

As Sherlock left the closing library a light rain was starting to fall. He began to desperately look for somewhere to stay dry. He couldn’t risk his backpack getting wet. If his school books were damaged he was in a lot of trouble. He was sitting an empty covered bus stop when a woman walked by.

 

“Using these?” she asked pointing to a disregarded newspaper on the bench. 

 

“No,” Sherlock answered. 

 

The woman set a backpack down on the bench. She opened the bag and stuffed the newspaper inside. Sherlock caught a glimpse of a pile of newspapers. She glanced over at him as she closed her backpack.

 

“No buses run this late,” she explained. “Did you miss your bus?”

 

Sherlock hadn’t told anyone about his situation. Yet he felt like he could open up to this strange woman. He had a feeling she was in the same situation. She was dressed in older clothing that barely looked like it was hanging together. Not to mention she was collecting newspapers. No doubt she was using them for insulation or to start a fire. 

 

“No,” he answered. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

 

“Don’t you have parents?” she questioned.

 

“They didn’t want me around. They made that painfully clear.” Sherlock explained. “I...I had to leave. They aren’t looking for me.”

 

“Do you have a tent?” she questioned looking at his bags.

 

“No,” Sherlock answered.

 

“Come with me,” she said. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

 

Sherlock frowned at the woman. He had no idea who she was. Was it really safe to go with her? He glanced up at the sky. He might have only been sprinkling now but the dark skies promised more rain.

 

He picked up his bags and quickly rushed to her side. What choice did he have really?

 

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

 

“Sherlock,” he said. “Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“My name is Emily,” she said. “My group is a few women and two younger guys. You’ll be safe with us.”

 

Sherlock felt happy for the first time in over a week. He wasn’t alone. Emily was taking him to a community. He wouldn’t have to sleep on the street alone. Even though he would never admit it out loud sleeping on the streets made him nervous. What if someone tried to attack him? He could fight off one or two people but what if there were more?

 

They didn’t walk far before they reached a wide field. Emily led him across through a worn down path of dead grass. Sherlock had an idea where they headed. There were some abandoned factors there. 

 

Emily stopped in front of one of the “better” looking buildings. It was missing all of its windows and was rather shabby looking but it was still standing. Sherlock could see several tents set up inside the building. Emily peeked her head inside. After a few seconds, she emerged smiling at Sherlock.

 

“Come in,” she said waving him in. 

 

Sherlock nervously walked into the building. It looked just like he’d imagined it would look. There were five tents set up around the open room. A clothesline hung in the back of the room. A few items of clothing were draped over it. A couple of empty buckets were near the end of the line. There was a room off to itself with a tarp as a doorway. Sherlock suspected that it was some kind of makeshift bathroom. There a large trash barrel in the center of the room next to a small camping stove.

 

Two women were sitting next to the camping stove. They each had playing cards in their hands. 

 

“This is Sherlock,” Emily said. “This is May and Olly. He doesn’t have a tent. Help me set something temporary up.”

 

“Of course,” May said putting the cards away. “We have that tarp that Brian brought in.”

 

“Yea,” Olly said running to the other side of the room. “I have some extra clothesline. We can make you a tarp tent.”

 

Sherlock watched in disbelief as three strangers went to work making him a place to live. They tied the rope off to sturdy looking beams and draped the tarp off the line. The tarp looked like a long triangle. May fetched a sewing kit from her bag and began to close one end of the tent. 

 

“There you go,” she said as she stood up. “It isn’t much but it’ll help with the wind.”

 

“Thank you,” Sherlock said crawling into the tent.

 

He placed his backpack and duffle bag in the back and stared at wonder at them. This was the nearest thing he’d had to a proper home in a week.

 

“You’re welcome,” Olly said. “We have to look after each other. Who else is going to do it?”

 

Sherlock opened his backpack and pulled out a large cinnamon bun. He’d bought it that morning and was saving it as a late treat. He crawled out of the tent and offered it to his new friends. 

 

“No,” Emily said. “We can't take your food. You’re already skinny as hell. Eat your cinnamon bun.”

 

Sherlock couldn’t deny he was starving. He hadn’t eaten a real meal in over a week. He brought the bun up to his mouth and began to eat. 

 

“Runaway?” Olly asked sitting near him. 

 

The boy paused his eating at that question. He didn’t really want to get into it. He’d run away because his parents were fighting about him. It seemed kind of petty. It wasn’t like they had kicked him out. He suddenly felt like a fool. Would they try to talk him into going back?

 

“Olly!” May said nudging her friend in the side. “That isn’t our business. If he wants to talk that’s fine but we don’t nag.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Olly said giving him a small smile. 

 

“I guess I better go over the rules,” Emily said. “We don't have many but they are important. No drugs. If you must do them don’t bring them here. Clean up after yourself. Just because we’re homeless doesn’t mean we have to live like dogs. You must be doing some productive. I don’t care if its out collecting newspaper or going to school. No one is allowed to spend all day here.”

 

“I get it,” Sherlock said. “I’m still in school so I won’t be around much.”

 

Sherlock decided not to bring up his past drug habit. He’d spent a few months in rehab last year but he was better.

 

“Good to see your still in school,” May said. “Brian is too. He’s in Uni. He isn’t around much because of it.”

 

Sherlock smiled slightly as the women began to talk among themselves. To the average person this place was just a destroyed building but to Sherlock, it was home.

 

\--

 

Sherlock loved his new home. He was saving his money to buy a real tent. He needed to have one before the winter chill set in. Brian offered to let him share with him if the cold weather came before Sherlock could afford it. He felt bad about imposing himself on the older boy. He had already given him an extra blanket he had. 

 

His new family was far more loving than his old family. Every morning Sherlock and Brian would get up first and boil water for breakfast. Oatmeal was normally the food of choice. Then they would warm more water for grooming. He couldn’t do much washing with such a small pan but he made do. He didn’t have any soap or shampoo but Brian did. They carefully shared what little they had.

 

Sherlock made sure any dirty clothes he had were washed each night in the river behind the factory. Despite this, his clothes still looked dirty. They just weren’t getting clean well enough. 

 

Josh was the other man who lived with them. He didn’t stumble out of his tent until Sherlock was almost ready to leave. He was the only one with a “real” job. He was a dishwasher but he had a drinking problem. Sherlock never saw him drink but he could smell it on the man. 

 

They generally shared everything they had. All of Sherlock’s meals were eaten in that run down building. Emily always made sure Sherlock had something to eat every day. Once she even bought him a Mars bars. He’d been so grateful as he had bit into the chocolate. 

 

Sherlock hid his situation from the rest of the well fairly well. Most of his teachers hadn’t noticed any change in him. Only one of his teachers was looking at him strangely from time to time. 

 

John Watson knew something was going on with one of his students. Sherlock’s grades were wonderful but there was something definitely wrong. The boy was only halfway clean. He had small stains on his clothes that could easily be removed with a washing machine. The boy had always been skinny but he was quickly losing weight. He always looked tired and was hunched over like his back was hurting him.

 

The teacher decided to figure out what was going on with him. 

 

He made sure to follow Sherlock out of the school after his last class. He got into his car and carefully followed the boy. The teenager stopped off at a bakery before he started walking again. To his surprise, he walked all the way to an abandoned chain of buildings. The youth disappeared inside one of the buildings. 

 

It was clear his pupil was in some kind of trouble and needed some help.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock could tell something was up with his teacher. Mr. Watson kept looking at him all class. He wasn’t staring at him or anything. He just kept glancing at him. Did his teacher know that something was wrong in his life? That sent a chill through Sherlock. What if he called his parents or the police? He  **wasn’t** going home.

 

As the bell rang he quickly picked up his backpack. He didn’t want to risk Mr. Watson asking questions.

 

“Sherlock,” he said as the kids began to file out. “Stay for just a second.”

 

The teenager let out a sigh and dropped his backpack. He knew. He could  **feel** it. He sat back down at his desk. Mr. Watson didn’t speak until all of the children were gone.

 

“I saw you the other day,” John explained. “I followed you after school.”

 

Sherlock felt himself blush at the knowledge. Mr. Watson knew he was homeless. Was he going to call his parents about the whole thing? Certainly, he wouldn’t allow a student to live on the street. 

 

“I...I had some trouble at home,” he explained.

 

“I see,” Mr. Watson said frowning at the boy. “I suspected something was going on. The counselor has care packages for students in need. I’ll make sure you get one.”

 

Care package? He didn’t need a handout. He could take care of himself. Though it would be nice to bring something back to his family. He did owe Brian a blanket. 

 

“Thank you,” Sherlock said unsure about how to react to their information.

 

Why was he being so nice? He hadn’t asked for any of this help. 

 

“No problem,” John said. “You can come here and pick it up after school. Now hurry onto lunch.”

 

Sherlock forced a smile. He hadn’t eaten lunch at school since he’d ran away. He was lucky to get to eat twice daily. Last night Olly had cut her apple in half and gave it to him. He was getting used to always being hungry. He quickly ran out of the room before his teacher could ask any more questions. 

 

\--

Sherlock almost didn’t go back to Mr. Watson’s classroom. He was so ashamed of his situation. He was very well to do family. He should have able to go home and have a nice life. Yet, he couldn’t go home. He had experimented with a boy. He didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d done but it was clear his parents did. He wasn’t going to live somewhere that he couldn’t be himself.

 

He returned to his teacher’s classroom and took the bag in his hands. He didn’t bother to look at the contents before stuffing it into his bag. Mr. Watson didn’t try to talk to him when he came in. He could tell the teenager didn’t want to talk about his situation. He didn’t blame the boy. 

 

Sherlock wasted no time hurrying home. Normally, he would stop by the store to get something for dinner but his pockets were empty. He would have to drop his things off and find a place to play his violin. It would give him a chance to see what was in the bag Mr. Watson had given him.

 

The teenager was passing the cinema when he noticed someone. His parents. They were standing in line to get into an early movie. His father was pointing to something about his head. His mother nodded and looked away. It was then that moment that she glanced in his direction.

 

Their eyes met. 

 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he ran into his parents. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon. His mother stood frozen for a second before starting to walk in his direction. Sherlock quickly turned and began to run away. He didn’t want to talk to her. 

 

“Sherlock!” his mother shouted.

 

Sherlock ran harder and the sound of her voice. He needed to get away from her. He didn’t bother to look behind him as he ran. Despite how tired and hungry he was he had no problem running. 

 

He didn’t stop running until his lungs began to burn. As he slowed his running down he looked over his shoulders. He didn’t see anyone following him. He kept walking. Even though he wanted to stop and take a break he didn’t dare. He wouldn’t feel safe until he was in his camp. 

 

When he reached the camp he wasn’t surprised to see it empty. Once it started to get dark his roommates would come home. He crawled into his tent and opened his backpack. He pulled out the bag that Mr. Watson had given him. 

 

He couldn’t think about his mother. If he did he would lose his mind. He had so many questions i his mind. He needed to focus on his current situation.

 

Sherlock opened the bag and dumped the contents out onto the floor. There was a toothbrush, a hairbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, crackers, tuna, and a pair of socks. To most people, it wouldn’t have looked like much but to Sherlock, it felt like Christmas. He needed everything that was in there. He’d been borrowing so much from his roommates. He could finally pay them back. He quickly replaced everything back in his bag. He would show Brian at dinner. That morning they had been forced to rip open a tube of toothpaste to get out enough to brush their teeth. 

 

With a new hope in his step, Sherlock pushed his backpack out of the way. He picked up his violin and headed out of the camp. 

\--

 

Sherlock shared his new tube of toothpaste with everyone after dinner. It felt amazing to have a full tube and a new toothbrush. He nagged everyone until they all had a spoonful of tuna. No one wanted to take it from him but they knew he wouldn’t to contribute. 

 

The teenager just wished he had a better tent or another blanket. A cold breeze was flowing into their camp and he couldn’t fall asleep. He put on an extra shirt and curled up in his blanket. He lay there shaking until well after midnight. 

 

It wasn’t just the cold that was keeping him awake. His mind kept drifting to his mother. She had seemed so desperate to talk to him. Maybe he should have. He couldn’t run away forever, could he?

 

He gave a defeated sigh as he crawled out of his tent. Brian had offered to share with him before. Sherlock was ready to take him up on that offer. He walked over to the tent and undid the zipper a bit. He could see Brain fast asleep under a heavy blanket. 

 

“Brian,” he said gently. When the older boy didn’t immediately respond he called his name louder. “Brian!”

 

The young man jumped awake and gave a loud yawn. He grumbled to himself as he sat up. He looked at Sherlock with a confused look.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

 

“I’m cold,” Sherlock explained. “Can I sleep with you?”

 

“Of course,” Brian said smiling at him. “We’ll both we warmer this way.”

 

Sherlock smiled and finished unzipping the tent. He crawled inside and rezipped it. Brian moved over making space for his friend. Sherlock nervously crawled over and under the blanket. He let out a relieved sigh as he rested his head on the pillow.

 

“Better?” Brian asked.

 

“Yep,” Sherlock said. “Thank you.”

 

“No prob,” the older man throwing an arm over Sherlock’s side. 

 

Sherlock didn’t pull away from the touch but he did jump in surprise. 

 

“Oh,” he said starting to pull his arm back. “Sorry. I should have asked.”

 

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s alright. We’ll be warmer then.”

 

Brian smiled and wrapped his arm around Sherlock. The younger boy slid in closer to his bed partner. 

 

“I saw my Mum today,” Sherlock said out of nowhere. 

 

“Did you talk to her?” Brian asked.

 

Sherlock hadn’t told him exactly what had happened between his parents but he knew they’d had a blowout. 

 

“No,” he said with a snort. “I ran off.”

 

“Second guessing it?” his friend asked.

 

“A bit,” Sherlock explained. “Maybe I should have talked to her. Maybe we could work through this. We used to be really close before....before all this.”

 

“It’s up to you if you want to talk to them,” he said. “Just remember that they left you out here. They haven’t even tried looking for you.”

 

Sherlock knew that was true. All she had to do was call his school and if see if he was still showing up. She could have gone there and picked him up. At the very least she could have called the police. The young boy doubted she had even done that. She was out enjoying herself while he was struggling to find enough food to survive.

 

“Get some sleep,” Brian encouraged. “You need the rest.”

 

Sherlock decided his friend was right. He needed to sleep. He curled up tightly against his tent mate and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock frowned looking out the front doors of the school. A heavy rain was pouring down out of the sky. His fellow classmates were rushing to their parent's cars and the bus stop. Most of them had umbrellas. Sherlock didn’t have one. He didn’t have money to spend on something like that. It seemed like a luxury to him.

 

“Here,” Mr. Watson’s voice drifted in his ears. 

 

The teenager looked at the source of his voice. Mr. Watson was standing next to him with an umbrella in his hands. Sherlock looked down at the offered item with disgust. Why did his teacher think he needed constant handouts? Yet, owning the umbrella would be nice but…

 

“Just borrow it,” the teacher said. “You can bring it back tomorrow.”

 

Borrow it? That didn’t sound so bad.

 

Sherlock reached out and slowly took the umbrella into his hands. He wrapped his thin long fingers around the wooden handle

 

“Thank you, Mr. Watson,” he said giving him a small smile.”I’ll repay you someday.”

 

He was grateful for his teacher's help and hoped that one day he would be able to repay him. He didn’t like owing anyone anything. His teacher gave him a small smile and nodded his head. 

 

Sherlock gave his teacher another glance before opening his umbrella. He was about ready to step out into the rain when his teacher called his name. He paused and looked over at him once again.

 

“Do you need somewhere to work on your paper?” he questioned. “The library won’t be open this weekend.”

 

The library? Oh yes. He had almost forgotten. They were going to be closed for the weekend for repairs. Where the hell was he supposed to study?

 

“I don’t really have anywhere to do it,” Sherlock said. “Is there any way I could get an extension?”

 

“You can do the work at my flat,” John explained. “I live alone so there won’t be anyone there to bother you.”

 

Sherlock wasn’t sure about that. It felt like it might be breaking a rule. Yet, it sounded like a good plan. Spending time in a warm dry flat seemed very tempting. 

 

“Alright,” Sherlock said nodding.

 

“I’ll have you come over tomorrow after school,” Mr. Watson explained. “I’ll give you a ride over and a home cooked meal.”

 

“Sounds good,” Sherlock said.

 

Mr. Watson watched as the young boy wandered out into the rain. Controlling himself around that boy was going to be a bit of a struggle. 

 

\---

 

Sherlock knew that something was wrong as soon as he reached his camp. He could hear Emily’s raised voice.

 

“You aren’t welcome here!” she shouted. “He didn’t bring you here. You came here without an invite.”

 

“I’m his mother!” another female voice yelled. “I have the right to see my son.”

 

It was his mother! She had found where he was staying. He froze just outside the doorway. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go in there and deal with this. He could see his mother and Emily through the doorway. They seemed to be the only ones there.

 

He needed to face her. He knew how much Emily didn’t like drama in their home. He had brought drama to their peaceful camp. This was his doing and he had to deal with it.

 

“Hello mother,” he said stepping into the doorway.

 

He closed his umbrella once he was in the dry building. There was some water coming in the missing windows but their belongings were far enough from the water to avoid damage. He gave a gasp of surprise as he mother rushed into him.

 

Sherlock dropped his umbrella as his mother wrapped his arms around him. It made a “clink” noise as it fell to the ground.

 

“I missed you so much,” she said pulling back to look at him. “I’m so glad I found you.”

 

“I’m sorry Emily,” he said turning his eyes to his friend. “I didn’t mean for her to come here.”

 

“It’s fine Sherlock,” She said. “Might I borrow your fine looking umbrella to fetch dinner? Mine has a hole in it.”

 

“Of course,” Sherlock said. “Be careful though. My teacher just lent it to me.”

 

“Sure thing,” Emily said picking up the disregarded object. “Have a good talk to you two.”

 

Sherlock frowned as he watched Emily leave. He wasn’t interested in being alone with his mother. He wanted to beg her to stay and help him out but he knew he couldn’t. He had to deal with his mother alone 

 

“How are you doing?” she asked. “Are you eating?”

 

Mrs. Holmes frowned as she looked at her child. It was clear to her that he had already lost weight. 

 

“I’m doing just fine,” he said. “I eat when I can.”

 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” his mother explained. “I had no idea your father would respond in the way he did. I never wanted you to leave.”

 

“Did Dad?” he questioned.

 

His mother didn’t respond. She simply turned her head and looked off into the direction of their tents. 

 

“He wanted me out because I messed around with a boy,” Sherlock said when his mother remained silent. 

 

“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “He can’t handle the idea.”

 

“So I can’t come home?” he asked.

 

“You can!” she said jerking her head to look at him. “Just tell him it was a joke.”

 

“No!” Sherlock shouted. “I’m not lying.”

 

“It isn’t that big of a deal,” she urged. “Just lie and stay with us. When you can afford to leave you can leave. Just don’t live like this.”

 

“Like what?” he asked. 

 

“Like that!” Mrs. Holmes said pointing at their tents. “My baby deserves better.”

 

“Then stand up to Dad,” he said. “If you think he's wrong then tell him. Leave him. We can get a place together.”

 

“I can’t leave your father,” she argued. “I love him.”

 

“It’s me or him Mum,” Sherlock said. “Either you stand up to him or you leave me here. I’m not living where I have to lie about who I am.”

 

He liked Brian. The two of them were starting to build a bond. He didn’t think he loved him. Hell, the two of them hadn’t even kissed. Yet, he felt there was something there. If he moved back with his parents there was no chance of having any kind of relationship with Brian. 

 

“Who you are?” his mother asked in surprise. “Sherlock you...you aren’t like that. I know that. Let’s not get into that right now. Let’s just get you home.”

 

“No,” he said backing away from his mother. 

 

“Sherlock,” she said narrowing her eyes at him. “This is insane. You are acting out You’ve always been spoiled and I guess I’m paying for it.”

 

“If you can’t accept who I am, then leave,” he said walking over to their tents. 

 

“Fine,” she said folding her arms over her chest. “If this is what you want then you can have it. When the snow starts and you’re freezing you’ll come crawling back.”

 

Sherlock watched in disbelief as his mother opened her umbrella and walked out. She wasn’t willing to accept a son that could be homosexual. She was making that clear.  He watched out of one of the windows until she was disappeared from view. 

 

She was gone. She had walked out of his life because of his sexuality. A sexuality he didn’t even understand yet. He felt like his heart was going to break in two. She really was leaving him there. He could go home but he would have to lie about experimenting with a boy and about his developing relationship with another boy. 

 

Tears began to well up in his bright blue eyes.  He could hear footsteps approaching. He wasn’t sure who it was but he didn't want anyone to see him crying. He quickly dove into the tent he had with Brian. 

 

He pushed his face into his sleeve. The tears fell down his face and soaked the fabric. He made a little sobbing noise. He was trying to hold the noises in but they still slipped out. He didn’t want anyone to overhear him. He was the youngest of us his group and they already treated him like a baby. He didn’t need them seeing him crying.

 

“Sherlock?” Brian’s asked.

 

Sherlock turned to see Brain kneeling next to the tent. He had a backpack thrown over his shoulder and a closed umbrella in the other. The younger boy quickly jerked his head away. He heard his friend set his backpack down inside of the tent. 

 

“What happened?” he asked sitting close to the younger boy.

 

“My Mum came by,” Sherlock said trying to keep his voice even. 

 

“What did she say?” Brian asked even though he had an idea of what had happened.

 

He knew it couldn’t be good. His best friend was curled up in a ball crying his eyes out. When Sherlock didn’t answer he wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

 

For a moment Sherlock thought about holding his feeling insides. He didn’t want to bother Brian with his problems. When he felt his friend wrap his arms around him and pull him close he felt safe. He was warm and cared for. He felt like he could tell him everything.

 

“She doesn’t want me around,” Sherlock explained. “Dad doesn’t want me either. They can’t handle the fact I might be…”

 

“Be what?” he asked when Sherlock didn’t finish. 

 

“Might be interested in guys,” the younger boy said lowering his voice.

 

“Don’t worry about them,” the other boy said. “They aren’t worth your time. Everything is going to be alright.”

 

Sherlock turned his head to face his friend. He was relieved to see Brian was looking at him with worry and comfort in his eyes. He didn’t seem put off by Sherlock admission. Sherlock leaned in and rested their foreheads together.

 

“Sherlock…” Brian said softly. “I...I like you. That’s why I invited you to stay in my tent with me.”

 

To Sherlock’s surprise, his friend leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was over in a second.  Sherlock’s eyes opened in surprise. It was only in that moment that Sherlock realized what he was must look like His eyes and nose were red from crying. He could feel snot and tears running down his face. 

 

How could he kiss him when he looked like that?

 

He quickly began trying to clean his eyes with the sleeve of his windbreaker.  

 

“I have tissues somewhere,” Brian said digging into his bag. “Here.”

 

Sherlock gratefully took the tissues and began cleaning his face. 

 

“Everything is going to be alright,” he said. “We might not have much Sherlock but we have each other.”

 

Sherlock gave a grateful smile. He might not have his blood family but he had a family that would do anything for him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock felt nervous as he followed his teacher into his flat. He knew it was against the rules for him to be there. Teachers weren’t supposed to have students in their homes. Yet, he couldn’t turn down the invite. Mr. Watson had promised him a meal and a quiet place to work on his paper. It was too tempting to pass up.

 

When he had told Brian his plans for the night his boyfriend had become very nervous. He didn’t like the idea of the whole thing but he understood why Sherlock wanted to go. The young boy had promised not to spend the night and to leave if things got weird.  

 

“I’m going to order a pizza,” Mr. Watson taking off his coat. “Do you want some garlic bread?”

 

“Sure,” Sherlock said sitting down at the kitchen table.

 

The thought of eating pizza made his stomach growl. Sherlock couldn't remember the last time he had eaten pizza. A real meal. His worries started to disappear. Mr. Holmes was trying to help him. He didn't need to be nervous.

 

“You can take a shower if you want,” Mr. Watson said walking over to the phone. “You don’t need to dive into your work right now.”

 

A shower? That sounded like a great idea. It would feel amazing. Even though Sherlock did his best to keep himself clean he knew he was dirty. He couldn't do much without having access to a shower or a bathtub. Since he wasn’t taking gym class so he didn’t have access to the showers at school.

 

“I will after dinner,” Sherlock said. “I’ll be too tired after a shower to focus.”

 

Sherlock knew that was the truth.  A shower would make him fall asleep. No. He promised Brian he wouldn’t sleep there. There was no reason for him to sleep at his teacher's flat. That was seriously against the rules. Mr. Watson would get in trouble if that happened. He didn’t want him to get into any trouble. His teacher was just trying to help him.

 

\--

 

Sherlock felt amazing. His project was finished, his stomach was full, and he was in a warm dry place. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. The shower was calling to him. He wished he had clean clothes to change into. It was going to be wonderful to get clean, but then he was going to have to put on his dirty clothes.

 

“Mr. Watson?” Sherlock asked.

 

His teacher was in the kitchen washing dishes from their dinner.

 

“Yes?” his teacher asked.

 

“Is…” Sherlock started unsure of how to ask his question. “Is there any way you can wash my clothes while I’m in the shower?”

 

“Of course,” John said drying his hands on the dish towel. “If you take a bath instead of a shower they clothes will be almost done by the time you get out.”

 

A bath! He had a tub!

 

That was unbelievable. Sherlock could slip into a tub full of hot water. It was too good to be true. He had to be dreaming.

 

“When you get undressed just set your clothes outside the bathroom,” John said. “Take as long you want. I have some papers to grade.”

 

Sherlock was so excited as he walked into the bathroom. He slipped off his dirty clothes and placed them in the hall. He opened the door and peeked out. There was no sign of his teacher. Since he was naked he didn’t want to risk him seeing him. He was used to his camp mates catching glances of him dressing, but it was different with his teacher. As soon as his clothes were on the floor in a pile he shut the door.

 

He put the plug in the bottom of the tub and turned the water handle. With a bit of gurgle, the water started flowing into the tub. Even though he hadn’t asked about using Mr. Watson’s toiletries he decided he wouldn't mind.

 

Sherlock found a bottle of bath salts under the sink and let the little crystals flow under the water. He sat the bottle down on the floor next to the tub. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth. The water felt amazing and warm around him. It felt as if someone was giving him a tight hug.

 

“All set?” Mr. Watson’s voice came through the door.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock said as he settled down in the water.

 

“Alright,” his teacher said before walking away from the door.

 

Sherlock reached up to turn off the water. He pushed his face into the side of the tub. His head was low enough in the water to get his hair wet. Even though he worked hard to try and keep himself clean his body was dirty.  

 

Weeks of crude swept down into the water. Sherlock picked up a bar and soap and a flannel. He lathered the flannel up and started to clean himself up. He let out a moan as the soft material touched his skin.

 

To his surprise, he felt the urge the touch himself. Sherlock had been living in close quarters with people he barely knew. He’d been too scared to masturbate. He knew no one would give him hell for doing it but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 

His mind drifted to his teacher. Mr. Watson was a handsome fellow. He was tall, muscular and rather sporty for a science teacher. Sometimes he helped coach the football team. Sherlock felt a blush cover his face as he let his hand slip under the water.

 

Was he really going to touch himself while thinking about his science teacher? It didn’t seem right. Sherlock had a boyfriend. He should think about Brian. If felt like he was cheating in a way.

 

No. It wasn’t cheating. He was simply indulging in a little guilty masturbation. His teacher’s face filled his mind as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

\--

John felt guilty as he put Sherlock’s clothes in the washing machine. The teacher knew what he was doing was wrong. He needed to take Sherlock back home as soon as he got out of the bath. If he let that child stay in his flat much longer something bad was going to happen.

 

The teacher didn’t think he could trust himself around the teenager. Sherlock was so adorable. His innocent bright blue eyes and messy hair. He wanted to kiss him and stare into those eyes. It was wrong. He was a child and his student. John had no business messing with him.

 

As he passed by the bathroom door he paused. He could hear soft moaning behind the door.

 

**Keep walking!**

 

The voice in the back of his head yelled at him but he chose not to listen. He carefully leaned against the door. Moaning. Sherlock was moaning. The soft noise caused arousal to overtake him.

 

**No!**

 

John backed away from the door. If he didn’t get away from that door he was going to lose his mind. He couldn’t give in to his urges, He walked back to the living room and sat down on the couch. His body was shaking as he tried to forget the sound of Sherlock morning.

 

-

 

Sherlock took his time in the bath. He drained the water and climbed out of the bath. He wrapped a towel around his waist. He opened the door a crack and looked around. His clothes were folded in a neat pile next to the door.

 

He quickly picked them up and walked back into the bathroom. Sherlock took his time drying his body off. He had rather enjoyed his bath and didn’t want it to end. Maybe it could happen again. No. It shouldn't happen again. He had masturbated to the thought of his teacher. The thought of it made him slightly sick to his stomach. Mr. Watson had been kind to him. Somehow Sherlock had turned it into something dirty. Guilt clouded his mind.

 

Fully dressed he walked out of the bathroom and started looking for Mr. Watson. He needed to get his things and get home. It was getting late and he didn’t want his boyfriend and friends to worry about him.

 

He found his teacher sitting on the couch watching television.

 

“Mr. Watson,” Sherlock said. “I really should go.”

 

Mr. Watson looked up from the television and glanced at him. The boy was standing in the middle of his living room looking more adorable than ever before. He had tried to brush his messy brown hair but it was still sticking out all over the place. It looked like it was something he had a hard time managing it.

 

“I’ll give you a ride,” Mr. Watson said standing up.”You shouldn’t be walking around by yourself at night.”

 

Sherlock nodded and sat down on the couch. He was so tired. The bath had felt amazing. All he wanted to do was curl up on the couch  His eyes began to flutter as he battled the urged to fall asleep. Only a few moments passed before sleep overtook him.

 

John walked to his bedroom and a grabbed a jacket. It was starting to get a bit chilly outside and he couldn’t handle the cold very well. Sherlock didn’t have a winter coat. He was going to have to buy the kid one. There was no way he was going to leave him out there with no jacket. He grabbed his keys and stuffed them in his pocket.

 

It didn’t take him long to get back to the living room but he wasn’t fast enough. Young Sherlock was passed out on his couch.

 

“Sherlock,” John said kneeling next to him. “Wake up kid.”

 

Sherlock groaned and rolled his head away from him. It was clear the boy wasn’t going to wake up. Mr. Watson chuckled to himself as he returned to his bedroom. John put his jacket and his keys away. He was going to move Sherlock to his bed. A good night sleep in a warm bed would do the boy some good. He would sleep on the couch of course.

 

John walked back to the living room and carefully slid his arms around the boy. He was extremely light for a boy his size. No doubt he was missing a few meals. The boy looked half starved. Sherlock gave a little groan as he was lifted into the air.

 

The teacher carried the sleeping teenager into his bedroom. He set the boy down on the bed. As he sat the boy down his hand grazed his bottom. John jerked his hand back as if his hand had been burned.

 

He glanced over at Sherlock’s face. The boy was fast asleep. His eyes were closed tight and his mouth was hanging over. John carefully lifted his hand and gently rubbed the boy’s plump behind. He felt guilty as he massaged the child's arse. How could such a skinny boy have such a nice plump behind?

 

John reached down and grabbed himself through his pants. His erection was hard from the excitement of touching Sherlock. He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop. The teacher unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. He needed to cum. He needed to cum while touching the boy's behind.

 

He let out a gasp as he started working his hand up and down his cock. All he could do was imagine Sherlock down on his knees. He could see those big blue eye wide with excitement as he stared at his cock.

 

_Suck it._

 

He could hear himself instructing the boy to take the erection into his mouth. Oh, his darling little boy.

 

“Ah,” John moaned as he felt himself climax.

 

John jumped up and away from the bed. What had done? He hurried out of the bedroom. Disgust filled his mind and soul. He needed to get away from Sherlock before it went too far.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock didn’t know what to think as he walked back into his camp. The moment he up in his teacher’s bedroom he had asked to go home. Mr. Watson invited him to breakfast but he turned it down. He felt bad for falling asleep there when he had promised Brian he wouldn’t sleep there.

As Sherlock walked in the building he found it empty except for Brian. It was a rather warm morning for that time year. Brian's tent was open and his head was hanging out and just touching the cold cement floor. He was fast asleep. Sherlock hoped he wouldn’t be too angry with him for breaking his promise. The young boy walked over and knelt down next to him.

“Brian,” he said reaching out to gently shake his friend.

“Huh?” Brian groaned rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I’m home,” he said.

Brian’s eyes opened and looked at him with worried eyes. He'd been up half the night worried about him.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I was worried when you didn’t come home.”

“Sorry,” Sherlock said looking away from him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep but I was so tired.”

“Did you do anything to you?” Brian asked worry growing in his voice.

He didn't have a reason to think the teacher would do anything to him but Sherlock was acting a bit strange.

“Of course not!” Sherlock said shocked by Brian’s words.

Sherlock couldn’t believe what Brian was saying. Mr. Holmes would never do anything bad to him. He was a professional and had never made Sherlock feel uncomfortable.

“He’s my teacher,” Sherlock said. “He would never do something bad to me.”

Brian got a guilty look on his face. He knew Sherlock’s teacher had helped him out a lot. There was no need to get worried. His old trust issues were starting to pop up and he knew he needed to take control of them. If Sherlock trusted him then he would have to as well. What choice did he have?

“I'm sorry,” Brian said giving his boyfriend a little smile. “I’m not mad at you or anything. I’m just worried.”

Sherlock climbed into the tent and curled up against his lover. He was lucky to have someone watching over him. Brian was right. They didn’t have much but they did have each other.

\--

Brian knew he was rushing things but he couldn’t help himself. Sherlock was just too adorable. He didn’t even think the boy knew how cute he was. As Sherlock slept next to him it took all his self control not to touch the boy. They hadn’t talked about sex yet. The one time Brian had brought it up Sherlock had started to blush and changed the subject.

It had only been a few days since Sherlock had stayed at his teacher house when the older boy decided to make his move. He had decided that this needed to happen. Perhaps he needed to have sexual relations with his boyfriend. Maybe he needed to know just what was going on so he didn’t get taken advantage.

Yes. That sounded good.

Brian peeked his head out of the tent just long enough to see if anyone else was awake. It was well past midnight so he didn’t expected anyone else to be awake. To his relief the camp was silent and dark around him. A sole beam of a light from an old street lamp was the only source of light.

He zipped up the tent before curling up next to his boyfriend. Sherlock groaned a bit but didn’t wake up.

“Sherlock,” he whispered gently running a hand down his back.

“Wha…” the younger boy asked blinking his eyes awake.

“Hey,” he said smiling down at him. “I wanted to know if you wanted to fool around?”

“Fool around?” Sherlock asked confused by the sudden conversation.

Where had this come from?

“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone else is asleep and I couldn’t sleep.”

Sherlock frowned looking away from his lover. He wasn’t sure that was something he was ready to do. He hadn’t do much more than make out before.

“You don’t have to,” he said as soon as he saw the worried look on Sherlock’s face.

“No,” Sherlock said sitting up. “I want to. It’s just….”

Sherlock wanted to do it. Making Brian happy was one of his main goals in life. He was his boyfriend after all, it only made sense.

“I get it,” Brian said. “We can just start small. Do you masturbate at all?”

That question caused a wave of red color to rush to Sherlock’s face. He nodded, unable to get the words out.

“I want to get you off,” his older boyfriend said. “Take off your pants and curl up against me. If you don’t want to look at me or anything that's cool."

Sherlock liked the idea. The though off looking at him while he orgasmed made the flush on his cheeks worse. The nervous boy pulled off his pajamas and tossed them away. Brian reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of lotion and a clean towel. Since he had started sharing a tent with Sherlock he hadn't masterbated at all. He didn't want to make the boy uncomfortable by pleasuring himself right next to him.

Sherlock curled up against him and placed his head on his shoulder. He heard Brian open the bottle and squeezed some out on his hand. The "click" of the bottle opening caused him to jump. Sherlock felt the towel being placed under his cock. He took a deep breath as he felt Brian wrap his hand around his cock.

“It’s OK,” he said. “Don’t be embarrassed. If you want me to stop just say so.”

“I will,” Sherlock said resting his head on Brian’s shoulders.

Brian began to slowly move his hand up and down. Sherlock reached up and gently bunched Brian’s shirt up in his hands. It felt so different under Brian’s touch. This was so much more intense.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Yea,” he moaned rocking up into his touch. “Faster.”

Brian smiled at that as he moved his hand a bit faster. He knew Sherlock wasn’t going to last much longer. The boy was already pulling on his shirt and rocking into his hand. His inexperienced body was being overwhelmed by the sinstations.

Despite the cool night Sherlock felt himself heating up. His heart was racing and his face was hot. He bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out. He wasn’t sure if Brian would like the noises that were trying to sneak out of his mouth.

Brian wrapped his free arm around Sherlock and pulled him in close. He could feel Sherlock’s hot skin through his thin shirt. It felt like the younger man was on fire.

“Ah!” Sherlock cried out as he felt his body tightening up.

He was having the most intense orgasm of his life. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as cum flew out of the end of his cock. Brian did his best to catch all of it with the towel. Sherlock’s thin body shook as he rode out of his orgasm.

Brian held him until he stopped shaking. It was only when the shaking stopped that Sherlock realized he was crying. Not sobbing but few tears did leak out of his eyes. Brain smiled as he reached up clean the tears from his face.

“Wow,” Sherlock said pulling away from him. “That was…”

He couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened. It was as if every nerve ending on his body had been hit with the most intense pleasure a human being could feel.

“Intense?” Brian asked with a chuckle.

“Do...do you want me to do...it...to you?” he asked.

“Actually,” Brian said. “Would you like to do something more?”

“More?” Sherlock asked.

Sherlock wasn’t sure he was ready for more but he wanted to make Brian happen. He was the one glimmer of light in his cloudy world. Mr. Watson was there to help him but it wasn’t the same thing as his relationship with Brian.

“Yes,” he said suddenly sounding guilty about even asking. “Would you like to..suck it?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. He wanted him to put his cock in his mouth? That sounded a bit odd.

“You don’t have to,” Brian said quickly.

He didn’t want to push Sherlock into anything but he still wanted to have his orgasm. After all, Sherlock had already got his. It just seemed fair.

“No, I’ll do it,” Sherlock said quickly.

Brian smiled at him as he pulled his pajamas off quickly. Sherlock felt the nervousness in him grow as his saw Brian’s erection. Part of him wanted to back out but he knew he couldn’t. He needed to prove he could keep up with Brian.

“It’s OK,” Brian said. “You don’t need to take it deep or anything.”

Sherlock nodded completely unsure of what to say or do. He leaned forward and stuck out his tongue giving it a little lick. It wasn’t enough to get a proper taste. After an uncomfortable pause, he stuck out his tongue and gave it a longer lick. There was a strong musky taste. Not bad but just strong.

“Yes,” Brian said putting his hands in Sherlock’s hair. “Just like that.”

Brian wanted to grab his head and slam it down on his cock but he couldn’t. That would terrify the inexperienced teenager. He watched as Sherlock swirled his tongue around the head. The young teenager looked so nervous and unsure.

Sherlock opened his mouth and allowed the head of the cock to slid in. He gagged a bit as it slid deeper. He’d managed to see a few porns here and there. Those girls always took the cock deep in their throat.

“Hey don’t hurt yourself,” Brian said pulling his head back a bit.

Sherlock felt his eyes water from gagging. He wrapped his lips around the head of his cock. It didn’t taste very good. Not gross but strange and foreign. Carefully, he worked the cock in and out of his mouth trying not to take it too deep again.

“That’s it,” he said pulling on Sherlock’s hair.

Sherlock whimpered at the hair pulling. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. It hurt and it forced him further onto the cock. Yet, it felt good. A strange ripple of pleasure to flew through him.

“Oh Sherlock,” he moaned gently rocking into his mouth.

Brian was trying not to yank Sherlock down on his cock or ram into his mouth but it was a hard battle. Sherlock’s mouth was so tight and wet. He wasn’t going to last long. Even though Sherlock had no idea what he was doing, it was still amazing.

As he felt his orgasm rushing towards him he pulled hard on Sherlock’s head. Sherlock gagged hard as his head was forced down. Tears began to rush down his face and he tried to pull back. Brian held tight to his head as his emptied himself in Sherlock’s mouth. He forced himself to swallow the nasty tasting fluid.

Sherlock let out a gasp as Brian pulled out of his mouth. He looked down at him with a worried face. Sherlock looked awful. His eyes were wet and red. The kid's face was flushed and drool was leaking out his mouth.

“I’m so sorry!” Brian cried getting the towel.

As Brian cleaned him up he was silent. He felt strange. Brian had been so rough with him. Was he supposed to feel like this? Was it supposed to feel like it had? It'd been uncomfortable and embarrassing.

“Are you alright?” Brian asked when Sherlock didn’t say anything.

“Yea,” Sherlock said in a bit of a disheartened voice.

Sherlock felt dirty and used. At first it had seemed like Brian had cared but he wasn't sure that was true. It felt like he was just using him for sex. He felt sick to his stomach. His hands were shaking as he fished out his water bottle and drank a little.

“I really am sorry,” Brian said as Sherlock curled up under the blankets.

“It’s alright,” Sherlock said with a yawn. “I’m just tired.”

Brian felt horrible as he curled up next to him. He had stepped over a line with his boyfriend. He wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. At first Sherlock was tense against him but soon he relaxed.

“We don’t have to do that again,” he said. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

There was no reply from his boyfriend. Brian leaned over and looked at his face. He smiled slightly when he saw he was sleeping. After giving him a kiss on the cheek he settled down to get to sleep himself


	7. Chapter 7

John knew something was wrong with his favorite student. Sherlock was looking tired and sick. Despite all that his grades were as good as ever. November had turned bitter cold. He had purchased a coat for the boy and was going to give it to him after class. It seemed like he needed it rather badly.

 

When the bell rang Sherlock was slow to pick up his bag.

 

“Sherlock,” John said. “Stay for a moment.”

 

Sherlock sighed as he watched his classmates file out. John walked to a closet in his classroom and opened it. He pulled out a new winter coat and walked over to Sherlock.

 

“Here,” he said handing it to the kid. “You must be freezing out there.”

 

Sherlock looked down at the coat with wide eyes. He couldn’t believe it. A new coat. He was in desperate need of one but he had no hope of getting one.

 

“Mr. Watson,” he said taking the coat. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

 

He expected Sherlock to be happier about the item. He was smiling but it wasn’t reaching his eyes. They still looked dull and lifeless.

 

“Is everything alright?” John asked.

 

“I guess,” Sherlock said with a shrug.

 

Something was clearly bothering to the boy. He held the coat close to his chest and folded his arms across the chest. His eyes fell on his shoes.

 

“Something is clearly bothering you,” John said. “If you don’t want to talk to me you can talk to the school therapist.”

 

Sherlock snorted at the thought. He didn’t want to talk to some stupid therapist.

 

“My boyfriend just got pushy,” Sherlock said shaking slightly.

 

Boyfriend? That caught John off guard. He didn’t know the boy had a boyfriend.  What did he mean pushy? That alarmed the teacher. John was ridden with guilt about what he had done to his student. He had touched him while he masturbated. Yes, Sherlock had slept through the whole thing but that didn’t make it right. Maybe, helping him with this would make up for it..

 

“Pushy?” John asked closing the classroom door. “Sit down and tell me what happened.”

 

Sherlock suddenly regretted bringing it up. He didn’t want to talk to his teacher about what had happened. That felt wrong. Despite that he flopped down at his desk.

 

“Nothing really,” Sherlock said with a shrug.

 

John walked over and sat down at a desk next to Sherlock. He looked at him with a worried face. The boy hugged his coat tighter but didn’t speak.

 

“Did he hurt you?” the teacher asked.

 

“No,” Sherlock said shaking his head. “He just...made me uncomfortable.”

 

“Did you tell him?” Mr. Watson asked.

 

“Not really,” he said shaking his head. “He lives with me and the rest of friends. I don’t want to make the situation weird.”

 

John nodded. He felt bad for the boy. He knew he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

 

“I’m sorry you’re in this place,” John said. “I wish I could help you more.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Sherlock said. “Can I go now Mr.Watson?”

 

“Of course,” he said smiling at him. “Just remember that I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

 

Sherlock let out a small sigh of relief. He hadn’t told Mr. Watson what happened but he didn’t need to. He told just enough to get a weight off his chest. Maybe he would speak to Brian about what he felt. As he picked up his belongings he felt a lot better. It felt nice knowing he wasn't alone.

 

“Thank you Mr. Watson,” he said starting for the door.

 

John stood and walked over to his desk. He sat down and started working on the next week’s lessons plans.

 

__

 

Sherlock was a bit surprised to see a car following him home. Half way home he bent down and pretended to lie his shoes. He stole a glance over his shoulder to look at the driver over the strange car. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a glance of Mr. Watson in the driver’s seat. A wave of relief spread through him. He was worried it was his mother. No doubt Mr. Watson was just keeping an eye on him. There was no need for to worry about him.

 

Sherlock wanted to speak to Brian about how he felt, yet he couldn’t. His boyfriend must have known he was a bit out of hand. He had a small meal of tuna, crackers, and a bottle of cola waiting for him. To most people it wouldn’t have seemed like much but to Sherlock it felt like it was his birthday. The two of them had sat together sharing the meal and watching the sun set. Brian tired to get him to eat it all by himself but Sherlock insisted on sharing. It didn’t seem like words were needed. He decided to let it slide. If Brain made him uncomfortable again he would stay something.

 

__

 

It was the first of December when the first snow fell. It didn’t stick but it was rather uncomfortable to walk home in. When he got home he was shivering despite the coat Mr. Watson had given him.

 

Everyone was there trying to keep the wet out. Emily and Ollie were using the old trap he had used a tent to cover the broken windows. It wasn’t enough to cover them all but it helped. Brian, May, and Josh were trying to clean up the camp. The melted snow was leaving pools of water everywhere.

 

It was rare that they were all there at the same time. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen May or Ollie. Josh had a sponge mop and was cleaning up the water the best he could. He had full bucket next to him.

 

“Dump that would you Sherlock?” he asked nodding to the bucket. “

 

Sherlock made sure to put his backpack in Brian’s tent. He noticed the tents had been moved towards a different part of the building. They were more split up now. Dryer places were getting harder to find.

 

Sherlock picked up the bucket and took it over to one of the windows. He dumped the contents outside the window before replacing the bucket back at Josh’s feet. His campmate was in a different part of the building placing buckets under leaks. The ceiling of the building was covered with traps but there were small gaps were water could get through.

 

Sherlock had been heart broken when he found out Emily had been homeless for years. She had spent a lot of time trying to “fix up” the building.

 

He noticed Josh glanced around the building. It was almost as if he checking to see if they were alone.

 

“So how are things between you and Brian?”Josh asked glancing at him.

 

“Fine,” Sherlock said a bit taken back from the question.

 

“You slept with him yet?” he asked with a little smile.

 

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped.

 

“Hey,” Josh said with a laugh. “Chill out. I was just curious. I’ll take that as a no. I figured you two would be at by now.”

 

“Sherlock!” Brian called. “I need your help.”

 

Josh gave him a little smile before Sherlock ran off to help Brian.

 

\--

 

John couldn’t stop worrying about Sherlock. It was so cold bitterly cold outside. He had tried not to. He knew if he did he would be overwhelmed with guilt. It felt so wrong to be in his nice warm flat when he knew Sherlock was out there cold and hungry.

 

It was nearly midnight when he grabbed his keys and decided check on him. He grabbed an extra blanket from his hall closet and threw it in his car. At the very least he could give the boy another blanket.

 

\--

 

Sherlock kept thinking about what Josh had said. Was it weird they weren’t having sex yet? They had made out a bunch a few times and Sherlock had even given him head again. Brian was a bit calmer the second time but it was still a bit weird.He was going to have to get used to it.

 

It was on his mind so much he couldn’t sleep.

 

“Brian,” he said gentling shaking his friend.

 

Brian yawned and stretched. He looked up at Sherlock with a surprised look. It wasn’t like him to wake him up in the middle of the night.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked sitting up.

 

“Nothing,” Sherlock with a shrug. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

“What is it?” Brian questioned.

 

“It’s about sex,” the younger boy said. “I...I just wanted to know if…”

 

“Brian decided to say silent. It seemed like Sherlock was trying to get his thoughts together. Saying something might make him feel uncomfortable.

 

“Do you...do you want to...maybe...have sex?” Sherlock asked.

 

“Sex?” Brian asked surprised by the question. “Of course, I do but I didn’t want to rush you.”

 

“I want to do it,” Sherlock urged.

 

“Now?” he asked with a chuckle.

 

“Why not?” Sherlock asked.

 

Sherlock didn’t want to wait. What if Brian got bored with him and moved onto someone else? He didn't’ think he could stand the thought of losing him. Brian was everything he had.

 

“Alright,” Brian said.

 

He felt a little unsure about this whole thing. The only boyfriend he had in the past was very experienced in this sort of thing.He had no problem riding his cock. Sherlock was a virgin. A wave of pleasure spread through him. **A virgin**. He felt himself harden at the thought of being the first one inside of him.

 

He reached out to grab his torch. He flicked it on as a soft light filled the tent. He set it so it was shining in the opposite direction of everyone else’s tents. The light wasn't bright but it was enough light to let him see what he was doing.

 

“Take off your pants,” Brian said.

 

Sherlock nervous slid off his pants. He couldn’t shake the nervousness.Should he doing this? Was he ready? This was a big step.

 

“Lie down on your front,” he instructed.

 

Sherlock flipped over to lie down on his stomach. He grabbed his pillow and pressed his face to it. His face began to flush with color. Brian had his pants off quickly. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of lube. As long as he was gentle and used lots of lube it shouldn’t be too bad. His boyfriend was a tough cookie. He could handle anything.

 

Brian spread Sherlock’s legs and settled between them. He opened the lube and squeezed some onto his hard erection.

 

“Are you sure?” Brian asked.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock said in a muffled voice.

 

Brian wasn’t sure if he was sure he should be doing that. It felt rushed but it was so tempting. He dropped the bottle of lube onto the blankets. He lined his cock up with Sherlock’s hole and started pushing in.

 

“Ah!” Sherlock cried out into the pillow.

 

It felt like someone was trying to drive a cricket bat into him. Oh. It hurt so badly. Brian seemed to be ramming into him.

 

“You alright?” he asked.

 

“It hurts,” Sherlock moaned.

 

Brian knew he should have pulled out. It was clear Sherlock wasn’t ready. His body was too tight to enjoy it but he couldn’t. He didn’t even have the whole head in and it already felt so amazing.

 

“Bite down on the pillow,” Brian suggested. “I’m sure you’ll loosen up in a minute.”

 

“No,” he moaned. “Stop. Please.”

 

Stop. He should stop. He was hurting his partner.

 

No. Sherlock needed to get used it to. He would relax.

 

“Quiet Sherlock,” he said pushing his lover’s head into the pillow. “You need to relax. That’s all.”

 

That’s when it happened. The head of Brian’s cock slipped fully in. Sherlock let out a pain filled scream. He thought he was going to pass out. The pain was so intense.

 

“That worst part is over,” Brian said. “The head is in.”

 

“Stop!” Sherlock cried. “I’m going to die! STOP!”

 

Brian let out a gasp as the tent was quickly unzipped. A man he didn’t recognize was standing there. He pulled out of Sherlock a bit too quickly. The boy let out a cry of pain as he began to cry freely.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Brian cried as he was yanked out of the tent.

 

John couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sherlock was screaming for help. That bastard was raping him. The barely lit tent was the only thing he could make out in the dark building. As soon as he had walked in he heard someone crying out in pain. It sounded like Sherlock.

 

He walked towards the tent off to itself. He had just reached it when he heard a scream that chilled him to the bone. He yanked open the tent and grabbed the boy. He could see Sherlock lying half naked in the tent shaking.

 

John didn’t even think as he threw the boy to the ground. Sherlock was rushing to cover himself up. Tents were opening and torches were being turned on.

 

“Are you alright?” John asked leaning into the tent.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock whispered.

 

“Hey!” a woman shouted running up to him. “Who do you think you are?”

 

“Stop Emily!” Sherlock shouted. “It’s OK. That’s Mr. Watson.”

 

Emily looked at the new comer with a small smile. She had heard a lot about the man from young Sherlock. She was worried the boy was being attacked.

 

“Look,” she said. “Can you just wait outside for a second?”

 

Mr. Watson wasn’t too sure about that. He gave a reluctant smile and nodded before walking out of the building. He would stand just in ear shot. He wasn’t leaving Sherlock there until he spoke to him. He wanted to make sure he was alright.

 

As soon as he stepped out he could hear raised voices. Then the sound of someone getting slapped. More arguing followed. It was only a few minutes before little Sherlock emerged from the building. He was dressed in pajamas and wearing a light windbreaker. He arms were wrapped around his thin frame.

 

“Thanks,” Sherlock said. “I really mean it”

 

“Are you alright?”  John questioned.

 

“I’m fine,” he said. “You came just in the nick of time.”

 

“Are you safe to stay here?” the teacher asked.

 

For a moment Sherlock didn’t answer. He glanced back into the building before shrugging. There was no way he wanted to go back in there. He didn’t want to sleep in the same tent as Brian but what choice did he have?

 

“I don’t think Brian is going to try again,” he said. “But I don’t like the idea. Of course, what choice do I have?”

 

“Stay with me,” Mr. Watson said before he could think.

 

Sherlock’s eyes widened at the suggestion. He would love the idea of getting out of the cold. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Brian. It was clear his boyfriend had issues listening to him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“Let me get my things,” Sherlock said.

 

No. He should be doing this. Sherlock was an underage student. He was not allowed to have student live with him. If anyone found out he could get fired. It would be too tempting to have the boy around him. He would do something he regretted.

 

Yet, he couldn’t leave him there.

 

Sherlock disappeared back into the building. There was no arguing this time. All he heard was soft talking. It seemed like forever before the boy emerged. His arms were full of things. He was wearing his backpack. One hand held his violin case and the other held a large duffel bag.

 

“Let me take something,” John offered.

 

Sherlock smiled and let him take the duffel bag. The two of them walked off heading towards John’s car.


	8. Chapter 8

It occurred to me that I had never set up a time for this. I assumed people would know it was set during the 90s when Sherlock was a teenager. Just wanted to make that clear. I’ll try not screw it up. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping things at the right time. 

\--

 

John knew he was making the wrong decision. He didn’t know why he was allowing this to happen. Sherlock did  **not** belong in his flat. He was a child, a child who aroused him. The flat only had one bedroom; so Sherlock was going to have to sleep on the couch. He didn’t seem too upset about it. 

 

The first morning it was actually hard to wake Sherlock up for school. He didn’t want to leave the warm blankets and the soft couch. John never drove him to school. The teacher gave him money for the bus. Sherlock understood why he couldn’t drive him. He knew his teacher would get in trouble if anyone knew they were living together.

 

John made sure to feed Sherlock well. At first, the teenager seemed nervous about eating much food. Every time he had a plate in front of him he would just pick at it. After, a few days he gave in to the hunger. He still wouldn’t accept lunch money from John but would eat a bit of breakfast and dinner.

 

Sherlock felt horrible about using Mr. Watson the way he was. The older man was taking care of his every need. He hadn’t been back to the camp to visit his friends. There was no way he could. He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk running into Brian.

 

He couldn’t get his mind off Mr. Watson. For some reason, he couldn’t help getting aroused by the man. Sherlock knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop it. Mr. Watson was such a nice giving man. He was so handsome and strong. 

 

Sherlock groaned rolling over and pushing his face into the pillow. He needed the bathroom.

 

The teenager pushed back his blankets and got up from the couch. The floorboards creaked under his feet as walked down the hall towards the bathroom. He stopped when he heard moaning. The noise seemed to be coming from Mr. Watson’s bedroom. Curiosity gripped him as he walked over and put his ear against the door. 

 

He could hear such soft moring behind the wooden door. 

 

To Sherlock’s surprise, the door flew open and he fell into the room. He had forgotten that Mr. Watson’s door didn’t shut properly. It was always open a bit. 

 

Mr. Watson was sitting on the edge of his bed with his erection in his hand. He let out a gasp of surprise when Sherlock stumbled into the room. For a moment it seemed liked time was frozen. Neither one of them said anything or moved. Neither of them knew what to do or say.

 

Suddenly, an idea flew into Sherlock’s head. He had been looking for a way to pay Mr. Watson's back for all his charity. Maybe he finally had a way. He walked over to the bed and knelt down in front of him.

 

“What are you doing?” John asked. 

 

John was terrified that he knew what the teenager was getting ready to do. Sherlock didn’t say anything as he gently moved Mr. Watson's hand out of the way. He wrapped his own hand around the length. Despite his long fingers he struggled to wrap his fingers around it.

 

“Sherlock,” he said. “You don’t have to do this”

 

Sherlock didn’t say anything. He simply opened his mouth and gently licked the tip. There was no way he was going to be able to take much of Mr. Watson’s length. It was much bigger than Brian and he couldn’t swallow all of that. 

 

The teenager watched as Mr. Watson gripped the sheets in his hands. John started to pull on them as Sherlock took the head of the cock in his mouth. 

 

The boy reached out his free hand and took one of Mr. Watson’s hand in his own. Sherlock lifted it up and placed it in his own hair. He wrapped his teacher’s fingers around his hair. Mr. Watson’s eyes opened up wide as Sherlock did the same thing with his other hand. 

 

“Do you want me to pull?” he questioned.

 

A red flush crossed Sherlock’s face as he darted his eyes away from his teacher’s face. He fixed them down at the cock in front of him. John couldn’t believe this. The boy wanted his hair pulled. His erection began to throb at the thought.  

 

“Oh,” he said giving his hair a little pull. “Oh, darling. You look amazing.”

 

John was carefully pulling his hair. He didn’t want to hurt the teenager. Sherlock could take a lot more than that. He liked a little mild pulling. He just didn’t like Brian’s hard pulling. Brian. Was he his boyfriend or ex-boyfriend? Was this cheating? What was he? He pushed the thought out of his head. 

 

He looked down at the teenager. Sherlock’s long thin fingers were wrapped around his cock gently working it. HIs plump little lips were wrapped tightly around his length. It was clear he had done it a few times but he was still struggling with it. His mouth was stretched out and drool was leaking out of the corner of his mouth. 

 

“Good boy,” he said trying not to thrust into his mouth. 

 

John knew if he started thrusting into Sherlocks’ mouth he could hurt him. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. The youngster was trying to take more of his cock into his mouth. As more slipped into his mouth he began to gag. 

 

“Easy,” he said. “You’re doing amazing. You don’t need to deep throat me.”

 

Sherlock growled in frustration. He wanted to be able to take the whole cock. He wanted to give him the best blow job of his life. More drool began to flow freely down his face as he struggled to accept it deeper. The constant work was wrecking his jaw. He was used to Brian not lasting long. Mr. Watson wasn’t showing any sign of cumming. 

 

John could tell his boy was struggling. Watching him struggle was turning him on. Sherlock was trying so hard to make him happy. He felt pity for the boy. He focused on the pleasure he was feeling.

 

“Move your hand faster,” Mr. Watson explained. 

 

Sherlock quickly began to move his hand faster and he struggled to take more into his mouth. 

 

“Can I come in your mouth?” Mr. Watson asked. 

 

The boy bobbed his head up and down. That caused a wave of pleasure to shoot up his back. John wanted to cum. He wanted to shoot cum into Sherlock’s mouth and down his throat. The thought was too much for him. He cried out as he felt his orgasm hit. Sherlock did his best to swallow the nasty tasting liquid but some leaked out of his mouth. The white thick fluid leaked out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

 

He pulled back making a disgusted face.

 

“Sorry,” Mr. Watson said picking up a box of tissues up from the bed.

 

Sherlock took the tissue and cleaned the cum from his face. 

 

“Are you...angry with me?” Sherlock asked looking up at him.

 

He was worried Mr. Watson would be angry he had thrown himself at him.

 

“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just surprised. What brought that on?”

 

“I guess i just wanted to say thanks,” the boy said with a shrug. 

 

“You don’t have to do things like this,” John said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

 

The last thing John wanted to do was make the teenager think he had to do things with him. That was just asking for trouble. 

 

“I don’t mind,” Sherlock smiled giving him a little smile. 

 

Ah. Why he did have to look so innocent? It was almost as if he didn’t understand what he was saying.

 

“Sherlock please sit on the bed,” he said patting the empty bed next to him. 

 

Sherlock frowned as he sat down on the bed next to him. Had he done something wrong? Was Mr. Watson upset with him after all? Would he make him leave? He didn’t want to leave. He had nowhere to go.

 

“I think we need to talk about some rules,” Mr. Watson said. “If this is going to happen we need to be clear about certain rules. You are to address me as Mrs. Watson or Sir. I don’t want you to slip up and call me John at school. If you break this rule you will be punished.”

 

Punished? What did he mean by that? He knew he should have asked but he decided to let it rest. That wasn’t a rule he planned on breaking.

 

“That makes sense,” Sherlock said nodding.

 

John felt his heart began to race. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to get into a sexual relationship with his student? He had already crossed that line. The damage was done. Could he really go back? Did he really have a choice?

 

“We only do what you are comfortable with,” John explained. “Nothing will happen unless you say so. If you don't want to do something you need to speak up. I'll be very angry if you don't.”

 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Sherlock asked catching the teacher off guard. 

 

“I…” he started. “I...I don’t know. Have you had sex before?”

 

“No,” Sherlock asked shaking his head. “Brian tried but…”

 

No. He didn't’ want to bring that up again. 

 

“If you decide you want to do that it wouldn’t be like that,” John promised. “It will hurt a bit but I’ll be gentle. I won’t hold you down and hurt you like he did.”

 

“Thanks,” Sherlock said comforted by his words. 

 

“It's’ getting pretty late,” he said glancing at the clock. “You need to get back to bed.”

 

Sherlock snorted before getting up from the bed. Sleep wasn’t going to take him anytime but he knew it was better not to argue with his teacher. He nodded and walked out of the bedroom.

 

As soon as the door shut John let out a long sigh. It was really happening. He was in a relationship with his student. He couldn’t wait to fuck the boy. He wanted to spread him wide with his fingers and slowly push into him. Sherlock would cry and whine from the pain but John would kiss his tears away. Oh god. What kind of monster was he?


	9. Chapter 9

I want my fans to know I’m in school majoring in Chemistry. As we get closer to midterms at the end of the October my writing will slow down. I still have free time and I’m trying to work on my stories. I’m not forgetting about you, I just get busy.

 

I know a few people were a little put off and confused by the last chapter. I promise it will all come together. Don’t be afraid to email me or leave a comment if you feel like you have an idea or something that could help the story. As long as you are polite I will always listen and be polite. 

__

  
  


Sherlock wasn’t sure about what to feel. HIs body began to shake as he realized the mess he was in. He had done something he regretted with every fiber of his being. Why had given his teacher a blow job? He had remembered how much Brian had liked it and wanted to see Mr. Watson feel the same way. It seemed to work.

 

He knew Brain had only welcomed into his tent because he wanted to be his boyfriend. To keep him happy he had done sexual things with him. That’s what he was supposed to do. Wasn’t it? When Mr. Watson took him in he knew he would have to do the same thing. Even though the teacher hadn’t said anything the boy had felt it in his gut. There had to be a reason he was being so nice to him.

 

Mr.Watson wanted him around badly. After he had rescued him from Brian he hadn’t taken him to get any medical attention. Sherlock had asked to see a doctor. He was in a lot of pain and was bleeding a little. In the end, John had convinced him they would be better off if he didn’t have a doctor. The older man was worried the doctor would call the police and childcare services. Sherlock would be taken away and placed in foster care. 

 

Neither of them wanted that.

 

In the end, the two of them had decided it was better to be quiet about everything. Sherlock was still a bit sore from Brian’s attempt at lovemaking. Part of him wished he could have seen a doctor. He had bled a bit and thought stitches would have helped him out with the pain. 

 

The next day after the midnight blow job Sherlock was slow to get up. He wanted Mr. Watson to get out of the flat first. Usually, the two of them walked out of the flat together. 

 

“Feeling alright?” Mr. Watson asked as he watched Sherlock slowly dress.

 

John could tell something was on the kid’s mind. Worry began to cloud his mind. Was Sherlock regretting what they had done? 

 

“Yea,” Sherlock said. “Just feeling a bit tired.”

 

“I have to go,” John said looking at the clock. “You going to make it school on time?”

 

“Of course,” Sherlock said giving him a little smile. 

 

No, he wouldn’t at school on time. In fact, he didn’t plan on going at all. 

 

Mr. Watson gave him a little smile before walking out of the flat. As soon he heard the front door close Sherlock walked over to the phone. He picked it up and pushed in a string of numbers.

 

“Hello this is Sandy,” a familiar voice said. 

 

“Hello Sandy,” Sherlock said. “This is Sherlock Holmes. I won’t be in today. I’m ill.”

 

“Oh darling,” she said. “I hope you feel better.”

 

“I’m on my way to the clinic right now,” he said. 

 

It was the truth. He was going to the clinic around the corner. Mr. Watson didn’t need to know he went to the clinic. If he was careful maybe they wouldn’t call child services. Maybe it would be ok. He would just tell Mr. Watson that he felt too ill to go to school after all.

 

He hung up the phone and headed out of the door. 

 

There was no sign of Mr. Watson when he reached the pavement below. He walked down the road to the clinic. The thought of talking about this with a doctor made him sick to his stomach. It was so embarrassing. How was he even going to explain it to the receptionist? 

 

Sherlock walked through the clinic’s door and looked around. It looked like he was lucky. The room was a little less than half full. He walked up to the check-in window.

 

“Hello,” she said giving him a little smile. “Do you have an appointment?”

 

“No,” he said shaking his head. “My name is Sherlock Holmes.I...I needed to see a doctor. I’ve been here before.”

 

His mother had taken him to the clinic a few months ago when he had come down with strep throat suddenly.

 

“What is it about?” she asked looking at the computer.

 

Sherlock didn’t answer her. He had no idea how to explain it. He glanced over his shoulder at the other people in the waiting room. The receptionist seemed the get the idea. She slid him a small piece of paper with a pen.

 

“Just write it down,” she suggested.

 

Sherlock simply wrote down _ Anal sex went wrong. No blood but pain. _ He slid the paper back to the receptionist. 

 

“What’s the pain level?” she asked.

 

“A six,” he answered.

 

It hurt worse since he had used the bathroom that morning. 

 

“Alright it’ll be a bit of a wait but it shouldn’t be that bad,” she explained.

 

Sherlock walked over to an empty chair. He felt bad about doing this behind John’s back but he needed to see a doctor. 

__

 

Sherlock waited nearly an hour before he was finally called back. The nurse gave him a warm smile as she led him to an examination room. Sherlock tried to smile back but he couldn’t. He was far too nervous about what was going to happen.

 

“I’m sure you’re nervous,” she said as they walked into the room. “It's going to be alright.”

 

After taking his weight and blood pressure she moved onto the real reason he was there.

 

“Why don’t you explain what happened?” she asked.

 

“My boyfriend tried to…have sex with me,” Sherlock explained his voice dropping off at the end. “He was a bit too rough.”

 

“How long ago was this?” she asked writing it down. 

 

“Four days,” he said. “I figured it would stop hurting by now.”

 

“Alright,” she said standing up. “The doctor will want to examine you so I’ll want you to undress from the waist down. I’ll give you something to cover up with.”

 

The nurse reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin blanket. She set it down on the examination table. Sherlock didn’t look up from his hands until he heard the door open and close. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

 

Sherlock's hands began to shake as he took off his trousers and pants. He climbed onto the table and unfolded the blanket. He spread it over his lap. It seems like only seconds had passed before he heard a knock at the door. 

 

“I’m all set,” he said.

 

A young male doctor walked in shutting the door behind him.

 

“How are you feeling Mr. Holmes?” he asked sitting down on his seat. “My name is Dr. Jones.”

 

“Alright,” he said. “I’m a bit sore.”

 

“I’m going to check you out and see what the damage is,” he said. “If I hurt you or if you just need to me to back off say so.”

 

“Ok,” Sherlock said his voice shaking slightly.

 

“Just take a deep breath,” he said pulling his chair closer to him. “Just lay back and let your knees relax.”

 

Sherlock took a deep breath lying down on the table. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling and tried not to think about what was happening. The doctor gently guided him to pull his knees up and let them flop open. He let out a hiss of pain as he felt a gloved finger touch his tender hole. 

 

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re very raw down here. I can see you a very bad tear healing. It has to be hurting you. You should have come in right away. If this ever happens again you need to get it treated right away.”

 

Sherlock grunted more in frustration than pain. He wished he’d gone against Mr. Watson and just went. 

 

“Did he use a condom?” the doctor asked opening another drawer. 

 

“No,” Sherlock answered.

 

He hadn't even thought about condoms. They had never talked about STDs. 

 

“Have the two of you ever done anything else sexual?”Dr. Jones questioned.

 

“Yes,” he answered worry starting to grow.

 

What if he had caught something from him? He had given him oral sex a few times.  

 

“I would suggest an std test,” he said. “I’m going to put on some numbing and antibiotic cream on. I’ll write you a script for it.”

 

“Are you going to tell my parents?” he asked.

 

Sherlock couldn’t have his parents finding out.

 

“We can help you talk to them if you want but there is no need,” he said opening the tube of cream. “We’ll do the test after I finish checking this out. I’ll write a prescription for some cream. I’ll have them leave the results of your test behind the desk. You can come and check for them in a week. I wouldn’t have sexual relationship until you find out the results.”

 

Sherlock was fine with that. He knew Mr.Watson was going to be angry with him so he knew he wouldn’t want to mess around for a while.

 

“Alright,” he said after applying the cream. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll have Tiffany get some blood from you.”

 

Sherlock nodded as the doctor let him flop him legs close. If Brian gave him something he would never forgive him. He would go down to that camp and start a fight he would finish. 

 

\--

 

As John took attendance his eyes fell on Sherlock’s empty seat. There was no sign of his favorite student.

 

“Has anyone seen Sherlock?” he asked.

 

“He wasn’t in English this morning,” one of the children answered.

 

John frowned as he marked Sherlock as absent. He hoped his was alright and couldn’t wait to get home and check on him. 


End file.
